The Secret of Char
by Echidne and Jyestha
Summary: Who was the cousin Char never liked? And how did Char know Ella's mother so well? In this exciting and fast-paced fanfic, the truth about Prince Charmont is revealed.
1. Default Chapter

(A/N-For those of you playing at home, this entire fanfic is based on the line-"Cousin of mine. Never liked him. I liked your mother, though." So read and review.)  
  
Prince Simon, Duke of Bumblefuck, lurked in the shadows. He was no stranger to lurking. It was one of his favorite things to do besides, well never mind. Anyway, Prince Simon regarded his cousin, Prince Charmonte of Kyrria from the shadows. A trace of deep loathing crossed his face.  
  
It wasn't only that Simon hated Char; he just wanted to murder him. Char was the crowned Prince of Kyrria although Simon had been born before him (three weeks). He and Simon were nearly identical. Their father was the King Jerrold. Jerrold was engaged to Daria, the Duchess of Bumblefuck. But, two months before the union, Jerrold had a tousle with Daria's younger sister, Arabella, who looked at great deal like Daria. The outcome of that affair was Simon. The affair was quietly hushed, because future kings should not be having risqué affairs with their sister in laws.  
  
Anyway, Daria, being the bubble-headed blonde she was, chose to turn the other cheek and forgive her husband. She bore Jerrold two children, a son, Char and one more child, a daughter, Cecilia. Simon lived with his mother in Bumblefuck till he was 7. She died a mysterious and tragic death in eating contest.  
  
Simon moved in with his father, aunt and half brother, Char and one true cousin, Cecilia. Because the whole affair was hush, hush, Simon thought that Char was his cousin. Of course, they were always curious about they're startling similar. The only difference was Simon had a freckle in the shape of a sheep on his stomach. They realized this when they were. "Swimming" together. Not that they did things together often. Simon thought Char was annoying and Char thought Simon pompous and creepy.  
  
As they grew up, to the dismay of their subjects, Char and Simon were identical in every visible way; with their tawny curls and swarthy skin. There was a deep rivalry between Char and Simon because of their close age.  
  
Char always seemed to win everything. Including the key to the throne. Everyone one liked Char better because he was charming, ingelletent, outgoing and handsome. They grew up as thinking they were cousin. Imagine the disgust that would be created if they ever found out they were half brothers.  
  
It was Char's 13th birthday, the day Jerrold officially named him heir for when he turned 16. Simon watched the ceremony sadly. He was no prince. Just a Duke of some small state, he watched the ceremony bitterly, watching his cousin be named heir to everything he ever dreamed of. Simon could not watch so he slipped out of the hall.  
  
That's where Jerrold found him after the ceremony. He sat down and explained everything.. That Char was really his half brother. But he told Simon that he must never tell Char the truth.  
  
A fiery rage built within Simon. He knew that he was supposed to get the throne. He was older and by rule it was only fair. But he could only nod to the poor King Jerrold and tell him he would keep his secret. He was already forming a plan.  
  
Now, Simon sat in the darkness. He drew a pistol from his pocket. Everything was perfect. He smiled down at his stomach. He had burned off the little sheep freckle with an iron that morning. It was in his pocket.  
  
Simon grinned. It late at night, after Char's 16th birthday, as tradition in Krryia it was also his coming of age. If something should happen to the king Char would be the legitimate heir. Anger burned through Simon, as had that the iron that had branded his flesh. He had watched his half brother take what could be his. would be his.  
  
Simon had been awaiting this night forever. Soon, the throne, the wealth and the power, all of it would be his. All it would take was one bullet. Simon would take Char's place. Looking like Char was now a blessing it disguise.  
  
Simon could almost not stand it any longer; he shuffled quietly then emerged from the shadows.  
  
Char had his back to Simon. Simon coughed deeply and smiled as Char jumped a foot in the air.  
  
"Good god Simon, you startled me!" said Char, catching his breath.  
  
Simon's teeth glimmered in the moonlight, "So sorry, dear cousin."  
  
"It's alright," said Char, "I just didn't see you. You see you are rather frightening and very, very sneaky."  
  
'And you need to work on your tact,' thought Simon but he only smiled.  
  
"Why are you smiling at me?" asked Char, "it's rather disturbing."  
  
"No reason dear cousin. And let me wish you a very happy birthday," grinned Simon.  
  
Char's eyes narrowed down to slits, ". Thank you, I suppose,"  
  
Simon touched the gun in his pocket one more time; just to make sure it was there. He felt it. It was nearly time. He looked around the silent chapel one more time; just to be sure that no was there. Pale moonlight streamed through the window.  
  
"Dear cousin," said Simon, "I have a one more birthday gift for you,"  
  
"Please Simon," said Char, visually uncomfortable, "Please, it's late. I've had a long day, I want to go to bed."  
  
"Just let me give you the gift," said Simon, clutching the gun.  
  
". All right Simon," said Char.  
  
"Close your eyes," instructed Simon. Char hesitantly shut his eyes.  
  
"1.. 2. 3." whispered Simon and pulled the trigger.  
  
  
  
  
  
1 year later:  
  
  
  
Simon aimless fingered a dagger. He was bored. He was really bored. It had been  
  
exactly two years since Char's birthday murder. It was his "birthday." Two months ago he had celebrated his birthday in private while his family mourned his "death."  
  
He sharpened the dagger and grinned, thinking back to the night. It gave him such a rush.  
  
He pulled the trigger, of course. The bullet pierced his heart. A moment after the bullet hit Char's eyes shot open. He stared wordlessly at Simon who was glowing with pride. Simon watched Char feel his blood on his hands. He did nothing as Char fell to the floor.  
  
"Simon," Char whispered sadly before dying in a puddle of his own blood on the chapel floor.  
  
Simon didn't have much time to bask in his pride.  
  
He got to work quickly. Shedding his coat to reveal a suit, exactly the same as the one Char wore. He draped the coat over Char's life less body and thrush the pistol into his cold hands.  
  
He quickly removed the horn-rimmed glasses from his face, that he had started wearing a week after Char's 13th birthday. He did not need them. It was all part of the plot. He took out a pair of chicken shears from his pocket and carefully cut Char's hair into the exact style as his own, making sure it was all-perfect.  
  
After collecting the hair, he looked down and knew it would work. It looked like a suicide. Simon had to admit; it was eerie looking down at a replication of him, dead on the floor.  
  
He had no time to think about it. He rushed out of the chapel, screaming. Of course, no one would doubt he was Char. He looked exactly like him. His family mourned the death of Simon. But Simon looked on as a third person. It was very difficult to get use to it. His family took his unusual behavior the first weeks for the disturbance of the death of his cousin.  
  
Simon learned to give up his old habits and take up the small ones he noticed from Char. It was more difficult then he imagined. He found it extremely uncomfortable when he heard his family talk about him. It was most unbearable around Cecilia who hated Simon but had a great relationship with Char.  
  
He learned to slowly blend into the castle setting, as the over worked young prince who didn't laugh enough. He had no trouble convincing his "parents" and the rest of the court.  
  
He worried that Cecilia would be the hardest person to convince. Cecilia always came in to talk to Char before they went to sleep. These chats were difficult because Simon lacked the secrets that Char and Cecilia shared. But he caught on fast, yet he was almost surprised that Cecilia didn't suspect anything.  
  
There was a knock on the door, it was soft and timid, "Come in," said Simon in a bored voice.  
  
"Hello?" said a blonde head poking around the doorway.  
  
"'Ello Mum" said Simon.  
  
"Happy Birthday dear," said Queen Daria bending down to kiss her handsome son.  
  
"Thanks mum," said Simon, putting the knife into its leather pouch and back into the desk, "The party was fabulous,"  
  
"I'm glad you enjoyed it, tomorrow night, the court is having a banquet in your honor."  
  
"Delightful," said Simon smiling, "What time?"  
  
"Oh.. Seven or so," chatted away his aunt, "I'm thinking. blue, lots of blue for this banquet. Does that blue suit still fit you?"  
  
"No," said Char shaking his head. In truth the suit fit him but he did not want to be seen in it.  
  
"Okay, I'll have Nan get started on a blue doublet tonight sweetie, kisses!"  
  
"Good night mum," said Char shaking his head. (a/n-That's the end of the prologue. Isn't it so deep and insightful? Jysthea and I laughed.we cried.it moved us. We hope it moved you too.) 


	2. A Tossle in the Hay

The Secret of Char: Chapter One  
  
Promptly at seven o'clock the next evening, Simon made an appearance at the banquet. He had been shoved into a tight blue new velvet doublet, tailored specifically to flaunt his muscular build. Simon stepped down lightly at the top of the staircase and gripped the long banister. He had an urge to slide down it. It was one of the few things he shared with Char; the midnight rides.  
  
"But of course I had to pretend to be regal and majestic," he thought, containing the childish urges and he made an august enterance.  
  
From atop the stairs Simon surveyed the room and began reflecting on what he saw in his subjects. All intellectually poor, weak- minded citizens. None have the ability to think for themselves. They all were brainwashed copies of each other. The ladies, trying to keep up with the latest fashions, were afraid to create their own. The men socialized with the power, craving the same authority but afraid to snatch it for themselves  
  
Yet again Simon feared complete boredom. He aimlessly began strolling through the ballroom. The banquets his "mother" was so fond of throwing were not entertaining. The only hope for amuseument was withdrawing into his own brain, drawing tactics to use in the future. Plans on how to take over a kingdom, plans dealing with women, with laws, with international diplomacy. Planning ahead had given Simon all that he now lay claim to—planning ahead is how he was able to kill Prince Charmont.  
  
Simon briskly walk down the long stairs, nodding and saluting people as often as courtesy demanded. Halfway down the stairs he froze. The double doors of the palace opened and an icy breath from the snow and wintry outdoors crept over the hall. Yet Simon ignored the change in temperature. A different reaction seized his body. A woman entered and looked around in momentary confusion. She was beautiful with tight brown curls and deep brown eyes. Simon knew right then and there he would win her over. He paused for a moment and watched the woman, observing everything about her. A plan was forming in his mind.  
  
Instantaneously, Simon was moving again, striding quickly off the stairs, his eyes following the woman. As soon as Simon was off the stairs he slowed his pace. Mingled a bit, but his eyes followed her the whole time.  
  
"Hello Charmont," squecked a sharp, piercing voice in his left ear. MY NAME IS SIMON! He bit back a scream and turned around with a charming smile, worthy of his late cousin.

"Good evening," Simon responded in an overly cheerful voice. Grimacing inwardly, he saw it was the Duchess of Banda and her three terrible daughters. "How are you enjoying the banquet, Lady Grace?"  
  
The woman and her daughters twittered with laughter, "Oh, it's just delightful," she chippered, "Have I introduced you to my daughters? Oh my! I haven't. You're the same age I believe," she fluttered her eyelashes flirtatiously.  
  
"Yes, I've met your daughters Grace; their names are Carmen, Ebony and Rose. Carmen is 17 and likes golf. She likes her tea with lemon and doesn't posses a personality. Ebony is 15 and a half and has the largest hat collection known to man. She owns over 3000 hats and wigs of varying styles, probably because she's bald. Rose is your youngest daughter, only 13 and pure as anything. She likes to sew and knit. She does not have the ability to string together more then 4 words at a time."  
  
But of course Simon didn't say that. Char would never have said that. He would have said something disgusting like "It is my honor to breath their air. May I lick your boots?'  
  
"Really Madame? I believe we have meet once or twice," Simon drawled, bowing courteously. He would only tell her what she wanted to hear.  
  
"Oh, well, Rose and Ebony," she said waving them away, "And this, this is my precious Carmen," So this is the marriage bait, "Carmen is practically your age, your highness!"  
  
"How nice," he say, politely. He was still watching the brunette woman over my shoulder. She was speaking to a group of ladies with oversized hats.  
  
"She enjoys golf and horseback riding," Simon heard the Duchess saying. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to join her riding one afternoon," Carmen tossed her long blonde hair carelessly over her shoulder and smiled. Wench.  
  
"That sounds nice. I'm sorry, but please excuse me,"

"Oh," Grace seems to be aback taken, "Yes, I'm sure you have other guests to attend to."  
  
"I do indeed, good night ladies," Simon walked off without a backward glance and strode straight for his target and source of gossip, the old servant Riley.  
  
"Evening, your Highness," greeted Riley as he stood stiffly against a wall.  
  
"Evening Riley," Simon said. "I need information,"  
  
The old servant was used to this. He grinned. "Who?"  
  
"The woman over by the statue,"  
  
"The one with the moustache?"  
  
"NO!" Simon snickered, "The one with the brown curls,"  
  
"Ah," the old servant sighed. "Lady Eleanor of Frell,"  
  
"Age?"  
  
"29," says Riley, "She's married to the merchant, Sir Peter."  
  
"Is she now, that makes it all the more fun," Simon said with a grin as evil little thoughts danced in his head.  
  
"She's got a 13 year old daughter," says Riley.  
  
"A 13 year old?" He gasped, "When did that happen?"  
  
"She was married to Peter when she was 16, and had the girl in the same year,"  
  
"So is that why I've never seen her around?"  
  
"Most likely," says Riley causally, "You're up to no good, aren't you?"  
  
"Perhaps," He was up to no good. And Riley knew it.  
  
"She's twice your age!" he cried, shocked.  
  
"She's 29, I'm 18. Only a 14-year difference Riley. You know, I have a thing for older women..."  
  
The old servant nodded. "So do I."  
  
He looked him over, silently appraising the sort of women this elderly servant would go for. "How much older?"  
  
Riley chuckled, "Go get her,"  
  
He left the servant. The idea of an older woman, married and with a child almost his age. it was disgusting and exciting. Wicked. Almost incestuous.  
  
He had to plan his every move. Casually lingering in her direction. "Accidentally" knocking in to her.  
  
"Oh!" Simon exclaimed when he "knocked into" her. "I'm sorry,"  
  
"Don't worry," she said smiling, "It isn't a problem, your Highness," she smiled.  
  
He looked at her for a long while.  
  
Her smile fades a minute. Thousands of cheap pick-up lines flooded his thoughts. He decide to stick to the basics, "You look like someone I know," My first wife, Simon thought rougely, imagining the flush that would cause across her girlish face.  
  
"Really?" she said, crossing her arms over her chest, "I don't believe I've ever meet you before, Prince Charmont,"  
  
"Char," Simon pleaded, letting his cousin's name roll off his tongue. "Call me Char, please."  
  
"I don't believe I've ever meet you before. Char," Eleanor eyed him suspiciously.  
  
"Thank you," Simon said, "But I think we have meet, Lady Eleanor,"  
  
She was startled, "How do you know my name?"  
  
Simon smile dashingly, showing off his brilliant teeth.. "How do you know mine?" She smiled and laughed. He joined in her musical laugh.  
  
"Dinner is served!" anounnced the herald.  
  
"Would you care to join me?" he asked politely, holding out my arm. She smiled and hesitated. Thoughts of her husband, Simon supposed. She's trying to decide if it was proper. Simon knew he'd have to make my offer irresistible. "Please, I would love the honor of having you as my dinner partner, Lady." He looked at her with puppy-dog eyes.  
  
"Alright," she said, taking his arm.  
  
Simon lead her up to the head of the table and set her at his right. Of course Duchess Grace and her daughters sneered.  
  
As everyone sat down Simon whispered to her, "Now, there will be several long winded speeches by several pompous old men."  
  
"Truly?" she asked, giggling slightly.  
  
"Indeed," he nodded. "We shall all sit here, smelling the aroma of food as we hungrily wait for the speeches to end."  
  
She giggles, "So there's no escaping it?"  
  
"Do you want to escape it?" he ask with sudden intensity that startled him.  
  
"I..." she stuttered in surprise, "I wonder, highness," she commented in clumsily recovery, "Why do you take interest in me?"  
  
"I've heard of your beauty," he said.. Aren't I charming? Simon thought to himself. A perfect little brainwashed Char. She blushed. How nice.  
  
"Honestly highness, you bluff. Tell me truly, or I shall leave," she says with a smile.  
  
"No," he smiled, "It shall be my mystery for the evening." Eleanor laughed at his comment, hiding her face under her napkin.  
  
"Really?" she asked coquettishly.  
  
"You might ask what about next evening..."he drawled quietly, winking at her.  
  
She laughed again. Her music sounded like little children chasing a kitten. "Fine."  
  
She took the blue napkins next to her plate and shakes it out defiantly. A hush fell over the hall. The High Chancellor Thomas had got up to speak. He's a boring man who would gladly see Simon dead-with his death he would be King Thomas. They'd had quiet a few spats over conflicts of interest.  
  
"Today, is a day, like any other day," he began to drone, "But, it's also a day, when things happen..."  
  
Simon, already disgusted, turned and faced his attention fully on Eleanor. She was slowly shredding her blue napkin into strips.  
  
"What are you doing?" He mouthed, puzzled..  
  
She put a finger to her lips. Simon watched her in curiosity. She had taken her pieces of the napkin and began to move them to what appeared to be a face.  
  
The face began to take the shape of the pompous Chancellor. She grinned and Simon began to chuckle.  
  
".. And so it is that two things are happening. We celebrate the birth of our great Prince Charmont but we mourn. Mourn the death of the Duke Simon. Cousin and close friend to the royal family." Lady Eleanor is stabbing madly away at the napkin person now. Simon couldn't contain himself.. Whether it was the site of a 30-year-old woman playing with napkins or the remarks the Chancellor was making about him, the irony of everything came out. Simon started laughing.  
  
He tried to control it, but he couldn't help it.  
  
A few people around him noticed and looked away. The giggles turned into hearty laugh and before long. well..  
  
Simon quickly got up and left the room. The Great Hall was deserted. He collapsed into fits of giggles.  
  
It echoed across the empty room. Fearing the noise will travel back into the Dinning Room, he slipped out of double doors.  
  
Once out there Simon laughed until he couldn't move. But a thought crossed his mind: "I have lost my only chance with Lady Eleanor".  
  
The door creaked open.  
  
Maybe not.  
  
"Char?"  
  
"Hello," he said, still snickering, "What are you doing out here?"  
  
"Being rude and disrespectful too," she said with a grin  
  
Simon couldn't fight it any longer. He grabbed her and kissed her. And she didn't fight back. They kissed for several long moments.  
  
"Lady, I." Simon finally blurted out. "I didn't know how to tell you this but."  
  
"But what?" she whispered seductively. "I like that wagon you're dragging." She looked at me oddly and Simon sighed, angry that his clever compliment went unnoticed. "You have a great butt, Lady Eleanor."  
  
"Please," she whispered, falling onto his chest. With that he gather her up and took her out to the barn for a romp in the hay.  
  
Which is how the Lady Eleanor became his lover. In secret of course, she wouldn't have it any other way. He was glad for that but knew she wouldn't flaunt her boy toy around with the court. She was above that. Their affair lasted 6 months. No one ever knew or suspected.  
  
He never thought he would love her. He never really even thought of if he even liked her. She was just another conquest, a plan that had succeeded. But when she fell ill, he was shocked. And when he found out she had died, he was devastated.

He missed his sex toy.


	3. The Death of a Mistress

Chapter Two:  
  
He sat alone in the back of the chapel. "Leaving behind a grieving husband and child. We must comfort them." The High Chancellor was droning on and on about Simon's one true love-- Lady Eleanor. It was painful to watch and listen to.  
  
He watched her family, the husband and child up in the front of chapel. It was first time he saw either of them. Sir Peter was a frightening looking man, tall, muscular with broad shoulders. Next to him sat the child. But oh! She wasn't a child. She was more a woman.  
  
He had envisioned her to be a girl from what Eleanor had told him of her daughter. But there she was. 15 years old with long black hair and a striking shape.. Perhaps it was the striking resembles to her mother that drew Simon to her but as soon as he saw her, he knew, he would have her. Just as he had her mother. Only this time it would be legal..  
  
Simon's former mistresses lay in her mahogany tomb. The casket was open. The woman inside looked nothing like the young, free spirited beauty he had a wild hot affair with. Instead she looked old and stern.  
  
As the ceremony came to a close the daughter, her name was Ella Simon recalled, was required to close the casket so it could be taken to burial. The casket closed with a deafening CLICK and the girl stood there, starting at the coffin. She looked so miserable. And then, tears erupted. Her wails echoed in the chapel.  
  
Maybe she was a child.. he considered. He watched her embrace the merchant and got to his feet. Simon wanted to leave before the crowds so no one would know he was there. As Simon reached the door, Ella tore past him.  
  
Simon watched her as she tripped on the way down the stairs and quickly returned to her feet, tears streaking down her face. He chuckled, this was too easy. Simon followed slowly at a good distance. She headed for the graveyard and Simon saw her dive into the closure of the Willow Tree. She was crying rather loudly. Simon felt tears forming in his eyes as he realized his Eleanor was gone forever.  
  
He tried to divert his attentions from his wet face by looking around at the tombstones. Duke Simon of Bumblefuck, it read. Simon gasped. It was his- -Char's tomb, rather. He had tried to avoid this place for two years. It figured fate would bring him here.  
  
Simon stared down at the stone. He was bemused about what to say to him. What where you suppose to say to the spirit of the man you murdered? He felt Char's spirit at the stone and knew something needed to be said.  
  
Hello, you lucky bitch, thanks for everything. He prayed silently. Simon heard a muffled cried behind me. Ahh. the maiden emerges from the privacy of her tree. He could feel her watching as he reviewed the tombstone, with his feet slightly apart. He wondered what she thought of his tawny curls and swarthy skin. Did she notice the sprinkling of freckles across his nose? It was surprising on such a dark face.  
  
He smiled at her, "Cousin of mine," Simon said, as he gestured at the tombstone. "Never liked him," That was an understatement. "Cousin of mine never liked him, so I killed him," Simon imagined himself saying to the desolate girl. "I liked you mother," I had an affair with her, Simon thought again. She was good in bed.  
  
The girl was moving away from him. Simon closed in. She's running. I have to make the first move, "You can call me Char." Oh that was stupid boy! Yeah, use the same pickup line on the daughter. Simon felt a wave a disgust at himself. "Everyone else does," Nice save. not!  
  
More silence on her part, "My father does too," I added. Why did I add that? Simon wondered . It was completely unnecessary. Maybe.I just want to prove Char and I have something in common, Simon thought profoundly.  
  
"Thank you," she said. Finally, she speaks.  
  
"Thank you Char," he corrected. Simon stared at her. She really did look so much like her mother, "Your mother use to make me laugh. Once at a banquet, Chancellor Thomas was making a speech. While he talked, your mother moved her napkin around. I saw it before your father crumpled it up. She had arranged the edge in the shape of the chancellor's profile, with the mouth open and chin stuck out. It would have looked exactly like him if he were the color of a blue napkin. I had to leave with out dinner so I could go outside and laugh." And screw your mom.  
  
What? Where did those unnecessary lies come from? Sir Peter was nowhere near Frell at that time of year.  
  
We chattered some more. Simon couldn't recall anything more of the conversation. It was quiet pointless. He made up some lies about how he knew so much about her. Something about her cook and his. Simon knew he was winning her over, just like her mother.  
  
He didn't dare attempt to attend the ceremony at the late Lady Eleanor's house. It would be too painful.  
  
Instead, he went back home to the castle. Life can be dull sometimes. He did have one joy in the world and that was hunting. It gave him such a rush to kill something so much smaller and weaker and know he had the control over it's life and death. It's pain. He liked control. He preferred having the control, holding the whip. Having the key to the lock. Knowing he was better and more powerful. And more handsome, with his chiseled jaw and craggy features.  
  
But of course, no one ever caught on. They preferred to think of their prince as a peaceful man of good breeding who liked his tea and crumpets. If only they really knew, thought Simon. 


	4. The Sacrificing of a Small Gnomatic Chil...

A/N--------Hey all. How's life? Life's good. Anyway.here's the fourth installment of "The Secret of Char." We suddenly realized it should be "The Secret of Simon," because Char's only secret is he's dead. 

Planning his next move was the hardest. With the late Lady Eleanor, Simon only needed a smile, a  
kind word to charm her with. She was a grown woman, experienced. Nevertheless, he was somewhat  
attracted to her daughter. Although she was but a slip of a girl, Simon could tell she had some intelligence.  
  
It would be difficult learning how he could win her over.  
  
Simon had to interrogate the royal cook to learn all of Ella's habits. "Well," the cook had said. "Taste this first." She shoved some soup down his throat. After he complimented her, she disclosed the keepers at the royal menagerie saw her there quite often.  
  
Immediately, Simon knew his next move.  
  
It was no chore having to visit the menagerie. As a child, Simon had been enchanted by the exotic animals. Even though most of his time was occupied with royal duties, Simon still found time to slip away to visit the  
dragons and centaurs.  
  
He waited by the centaurs for nearly two hours. Knowing that the king and queen would be looking for him, Simon had to prepare to go. When he had given up hope of seeing Ella that day, she appeared, silently creeping near the centaurs. She had throw a piece of cheese into the fire and was gazing intently on the centaur.  
  
Simon opened his mouth to greet her, but realized she hadn't seen him yet. He didn't want to startle her and scare the animals when she jumped in surprise at seeing Prince Charmont, her Prince! She took some more cheese and held it out to the centaur.  
  
Her stupidity was astonishing him. Everyone knew better than to feed a centaur a dairy product! It was common knowledge that their lactose-intolerance lead to stomach problems of a gaseous nature.  
  
Without thinking, Simon held out an apple. "Here," he said.  
  
Ella turned. She appeared quite surprised to see the Crown Prince Charmont offering her fruit. She  
looked at him quizzingly. "Thank you," she said, taking the apple.  
  
Holding out her hand, she edged closer to the moat, behind which the centaur was. The centaur's nostrils flared and he trotted towards her. She tossed the apple. Two other centaurs galloped over as Ella's centaur caught the treat and started eating, crunching loudly.  
  
Ella sighed. "I always expect them to thank me or to say, 'How dare you stare?'"  
  
Simon pointed at them. "They're not smart enough to talk. See how blank their eyes are?" Simon felt dumb. Of course she knew that.  
  
"If they had words," responded Ella quickly, "They wouldn't be able to think of anything to say."  
  
Simon looked at her oddly. After a moment, he began to laugh. "That's funny! You're funny." He had a brief flash of memory of her mother. "As the Lady Eleanor was," he added respectfully. Ella's face paled slightly and she looked away. "Sorry. I didn't mean to remind you."  
  
"I think of her often," Ella said simply, turning away from the playful centaurs.  
  
They walked around the edge of the moat.  
  
"Would you like an apple?" Simon offered her, taking one for himself. She looked at him and pawed the ground with her right foot and tossed her head as though she had a mane. Opening her eyes as wide as they'd go, she stared stupidly at Simon and took the apple.  
  
She certainly was a refreshing change from the older Lady Eleanor, thought Simon. He laughed at her impression of a centaur. "I like you," he revealed. "I'm quite taken with you."  
  
As we walked, the Kyrrians all bowed deeply. Simon was used to it, so he was able to give them a brief salute while still walking. Ella looked unsure of what to do. Finally, she settled on a smile and a deep nod.  
  
They came to the parrot cages soon. The keeper of the birds seemed to know Ella. He greeted her first, not seeing the prince. Horrified, he corrected his mistake and bowed low. Then he returned to feeding an orange bird.  
  
"This one's new," he said. "Speaks Gnomic and doesn't shut up."  
  
The parrot gazed at Ella and made a comment. She repeated the comment in the tongue. Simon was thunderstruck.  
  
"You speak Gnomic?" And I thought her simple, thought Simon.  
  
She shook her head. "I like to say the words. I only know what a few words mean."  
  
The keeper looked up. "She does it just right, doesn't she, Highness?"  
  
Highness. Even after three years, the word never ceased to thrill Simon. Simon tried to make the sounds also.  
  
"Fawithkor evutk brizarry." he began. "It sounded better when you did it." He flashed her a charming smile. Soon, she'd be his puppet.  
  
Simon and Ella stayed with the birds for a considerable amount of time. After they saw each bird, Ella had to go around and bid them farewell in their own tongue.  
  
As they left, Simon and Ella passed the ogres garden. Ella attempted to teach Simon some Gnomic.  
  
After a few miserable tries, Simon shook his head. "If they ever heard me, the elves would never let me stand under a tree again."  
  
"The gnomes would hit you over the head with a shovel," agreed Ella flippantly. Simon was startled about how quickly she had accepted him as a friend. She didn't treat him as her better, she treated him as her equal. How interesting.  
  
The real Char would have been furious. However, Simon was actually enjoyed flirting with someone close to his age, instead of a woman twice his age.  
  
As they continued the conversation, they neared the ogre hut. Normally, Ella would not have been allowed near there. But the guards must have assumed she was a guest of the prince and let her pass.  
  
Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by a soft, lisping voice.  
  
Ella stopped short. "Did you hear that?"  
  
"Doesn't sound like and ogre." Simon turned around. "Where did it come from?"  
  
The voice repeated itself, with a trace of tears in the voice. A gnomic toddler poked his head out of  
  
an aqueduct a few feet away from the hut. Simon noticed him at the same time as Ella. The ogre was going to eat the little boy! Normally, Simon wouldn't really give a damn. Gnomes gave him the willies. But Ella would never speak to him again if he let the boy be eaten. Simon immediately snatched the boy.  
  
"Give him to me," said Ella, holding her arms. She scooped up the child and hugged him close to her chest.  
  
What Simon would give to be that child. He briefly imagined a short respite in those arms and then brushed the obstructing thoughts begone.  
  
Actually, nothing, thought Simon after a moment. I wouldn't give anything to be that child! Then I wouldn't be rich and powerful and handsome and going to be the king when my father croaks!  
  
The ogre came out of his hut and hissed something at Simon. When he saw Ella, his expression changed. He said something to her. Ella began trembling. After a moment, she took a step forward.  
  
The ogre hissed again. Ella stepped towards him once again with the child in her hands.  
  
What the hell is she doing? thought Simon furiously. Now is not the time to sacrifice a small child to the sun god or whatever.  
  
"Where are you going?" Simon cried.  
  
"I must," said Ella in a dead, monotone voice.  
  
"Stop! I command you to stop!" said Simon without thinking. Crap, he thought. His mother hated when he commanded her to do something. Of course, he usually wasn't commanding her to stop.  
  
But Ella didn't seem to mind. She stopped in her place. The guards now pointed their swords at  
  
the ogre and he returned to his hut. Simon was gaping at Ella. "Why did you listen to him?" Are you suicidal and mental? he added silently.  
  
The gnome child was being a terror. He was pulling on his beard and wailing. "He's frightened," said Ella simply, patting him reassuringly on his head.  
  
Simon wasn't distracted. "Why did you listen to him, Ella?" Ah, he thought. The first time I've used her name. He called her mother Lady Eleanor until the day she died. To make things more eerie, he realized, the daughter was also Lady Eleanor.  
  
"His eyes," said Ella. "Something about them. I had to do what he wanted."  
  
I'm jealous, thought Simon. "Have they found a new way to bewitch us?" he cried instead. "I must tell my father." Like he'll care.  
  
The child howled, thrashing at the air. Ella repeated the words she learned a few minutes earlier to the gnomic child. His sobs subsided and he smiled.  
  
"His parents must be worried," commented Ella. Simon took her hand and the child's and led them to the home of the gnomes.  
  
An old gnome recognized the child. She cried his name and than covered his face with kisses. After a moment, she peered at them and recognized Simon.  
  
"Highness, thank you for the return of my grandson," she said formally.  
  
Simon coughed, almost embarrassed. "We're glad to bring him back, madam. He was almost an ogre's lunch."  
  
"Char-Prince Charmont-saved him," said Ella.  
  
The woman bowed. "You have the gratitude of the gnomes. I am zhatapH."  
  
She was the oldest thing Simon had ever seen. Absolutely ridiculously old. Ella curtsied towards the woman, wobbling  
  
slightly. "I'm Ella."  
  
More gnomes came and surrounded them. "How did you persuade him to go with you? He would not go with most humans," said one.  
  
Well, most humans did not have the lovely creature she had for a mother, Simon wanted to say. Instead, he responded. "Ella spoke to him."  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
Ella hesitated, than repeated her phrases. "No wonder he came with you!" said zhataphH.  
  
The gnome child squirmed and wiggled. A younger gnome came and took him . "Where did you learn to speak Gnomic? I am his mother."  
  
Ella explained about the parrots. After that, it got a bit boring. At least until an old gnome woman told Ella a part of her future.  
  
She gazed at Ella. "He will not be the only one you will save. I see it."  
  
Who will she save? Thought Simon. Will she save my empty heart, frozen at the thought of love, only wanting women for their bodies?  
  
I hope not, he recollected. It's more fun that way.  
  
"Gnomes see no detail," the old gnome said. "What you will wear tomorrow, what you will say---  
  
these are mysteries. I see outlines only."  
  
"What are they?"  
  
"Danger, a quest, three figures. Those closest to you, but they are not your friends." The woman  
  
put her face up to Ella's. "Beware of them!"  
  
On their way out of the menagerie, Simon surprised himself. "Tonight I shall triple the guard around the ogres. And soon I shall catch a centaur and give him to you."  
  
Embarrassed by his proclamation, Simon walked her home in silence, wondering if this girl was truly her mother's daughter.  
  
A/N-Thank yo for reading. We'll have the next chapter soon. Please read and review! 

Submit ReviewReport Possible AbuseAdd Story to FavoritesAdd Author to FavoritesAdd Author to Author Alert 1. Default Chapter2. A Tossle in the Hay3. The Death of a Mistress4. The Sacrificing of a Small Gnomatic Chil...5. Centaur Fun and Nymphs6. Incest and Seduction


	5. Centaur Fun and Nymphs

Simon hurried home after his day with Ella. He felt like more of a fool every time he reviewed the events of the day.  
  
He sat in the library poring over volumes of old texts, plotting of course. He was reading up on old wars and conquests. There had been peace in Kyrria for years and years, so the documents he had to find were very old.  
  
Every time he'd begin to get engrossed in his reading a picture of that Ella girl popped him his head.  
  
"Curses!" he muttered, finally slamming the dusty book shut. He stood up and began to pace. "This vexes me.I'm terribly vexed. Why does she bother and vex me so?" he asked aloud. The library was the last place anyone in the castle would go and most likely the last place they'd look for him, so he spent many afternoons here. Sometimes he'd read or scheme and sometimes he would talk to himself. Most often, he would talk to himself.  
  
He sat himself down in one of the library chairs, "I promised her a centaur?" and then he was up again, muttering to himself. "I'll catch her a centaur! Ha! Where am I going to find a centaur.?"  
  
This simple thought lead to a window of opportunity. If you want to catch a centaur. you go to where they live. Right? Centaurs.. pondered Simon, gazing out the window. Then it hit him.  
  
Behind the castle lay the Forest of Farway. It was an ideal, fairy tale-ish forest in which many of the kingdoms fairies and nymphs resided. It contained many other magical beasts; mermaids in the lakes and streams, an occasional flock of baby dragons and of course, centaurs.  
  
The forest. Without another thought he left the library. He only stopped to get his cloak before running out the door without a word to anyone where he was off to.  
  
The forest meet the ends of the castle grounds at a high stonewall, with twisted ivy crawling up it. With a quick glance back at the castle, he prayed no one would take this opportunity to look out at the grounds. He grabbed a fistful of ivy and pulled his body up. With minimal difficultly he managed to get himself to the top of the wall, using the ivy as a ladder. "Thank God for my ripped muscle tone," thought Simon as he admired his upper body strength.  
  
He perched on top of the wall and look down into the forest. With one final look back at the castle, he jumped down into the silence wood, his cloak fluttering behind him.  
  
  
  
"Life! What is that boy up to now?" he pondered aloud, "Cecelia, what is your brother doing?" asked King Jerrold peeling back the curtains, "What is he doing?"  
  
"I don't know, Father!" said Cecelia, looking down into her lap. She was in the middle of her music lesson when Char had burst out of the castle and gone sprinting to the edge of the grounds. Cecelia's tutor had called the king and queen in and they watched there son ran down the yard and to the wall where he was climbing the ivy. " Daria, what is that boy up to?" asked Jerrold.  
  
"Darling," soothed Daria with a smile, "I'm sure it's nothing. He's just being a boy."  
  
"Maybe he's having a love affair with one of the nymphs," muttered Cecelia with a devilish smile.  
  
This comment luckily did not reach the King's ears.  
  
"My dear," said Daria patting her husband's arm, "Let him have his adventure for now,"  
  
The king stared at her for a minute, pondered what he had to drink when he agreed to ever marrying this creature, ".. I'll have a talking to him with when he returns,"  
  
"There now," said Daria smiling quaintly, as her husband stormed out of the room, "We can't do anything about your brother darling, let's get back to your lessons,"  
  
As Cecelia set herself back down into front of her lute, she allowed herself one more humorous image of her brother and the wood nymphs making sweet love in the forest. It was a bit of a turn on, she realized as she tried to ignore the pangs of jealousy as she thought of another woman being with her dear, sweet brother.  
  
Simon's fall left him sprawled on the forest floor, "Ouch," he groaned rolling on to the moss.  
  
The forest was considerably darker and a few degrees cooler but all the more, an amazing place. It was surely the most beautiful place in the world. Between the great trees was a thick carpet of rich green moss. Countless wild bird built nests high up in the trees. Nothing was moving. Nothing seemed to be breathing.  
  
Of course Simon was able to take this all in and appreciate this. Simon moved delicately over the ground. He had a sudden urge to take off his shoes, feel the moss between his toes. And of course he did just that.  
  
"Simon, stop," he said aloud, "Put your boots back on, catch that centaur and get the hell out of here,"  
  
"But I don't want to," he responded to himself, "It's so peaceful here- I want to just lay down and-,"  
  
"Stop it!" he screamed at himself, "Catch the centaur, keep your word, get out- that's all there is to it,"  
  
"Right," Simon agreed with himself. His voice echoed in the still wood.  
  
Moving between the trees softly he found a small stream. He followed the stream east, hoping he might find a flock of centaur by the waters.  
  
"Now, would it be a flock, or a herd," he wondered, "A pack or a group. A gaggle or a-," he stopped himself.  
  
By the water's edge were three male centaurs. They were very young. "Stupid looking things really," he thought, as a picture of Ella pawing the ground formed in his mind. He found the thought arousing.  
  
Realizing that he had foolishly forgotten a rope he looked around him. All he had was his cloak. so he ripped off a long strip off the bottom.  
  
"You don't have a plan stupid," he thought to himself, "You. the prince of plotting, does not have a plan for this menial task."  
  
"Yes I do," he answered back, looking around him, "Apple tree.. Hmmm," he said plucking the ripe fruit off the tree.  
  
With the apple in one hand and the ripped fabric in the other he slowly moved towards the centaur, "Here centaur- centaur- centaur,"  
  
The creatures stared blankly at him.  
  
"Hello," he whispered to them as he got closer, "I'm not going to hurt you, no- I'm going to give you away to a crazy girl who I barely know- there's a stupid centaur," he coaxed as one of the three took the bait.  
  
As he ate centaur stroked his back and tied the fabric around his head, as a leash, "Good little half horse thing. now let's go!" he commanded.  
  
"But I mustn't seem overly eager to give this to her-," he said to himself. "Perhaps I should wait a few days before going over to her home.make her wait and dream about me.....but what shall I do with a full grown centaur?  
  
"CECILIA!" screamed Simon. Cecelia put down her lute and ran to her window, pushing aside her musical instructor.  
  
"WHAT?!" she hollered back.  
  
"COME DOWN HERE FOR A MINUTE!"  
  
Cecilia nodded. "BE RIGHT THERE!" She began walking off.  
  
"But.Princess.. your lesson!" protested the teacher.  
  
"Screw my lesson!" snapped Cecilia "Your Prince has commanded my presence."  
  
"But."  
  
"But nothing!" Cecilia waddled off to go meet her brother. ****************************************************************  
  
"Absolutely not," said Cecilia flatly ten minutes later. "I am NOT hiding a centaur in my dressing room. No. Not going to happen."  
  
"If you don't do it I'll make you marry the Earl of Wollock," retorted Simon.  
  
"Char, I would if it was a kitten or something, but this is a freaking CENTAUR! I cannot just put it under my bed, you know? Why don't you take it? You're the Prince. They won't think you've gone crazy if they find a wild animal underneath your royal bed!"  
  
Simon waved his hand. "Just say it's one of.I don't know. A new lady in waiting from.. the moon."  
  
"They won't think a centaur is my maid!"  
  
"Why not? It's ugly enough."  
  
"ARG!" shrieked Cecilia. "You are impossible!"  
  
"Cecilia all I am asking is that you do me one SMALL favor. When do I ever ask you for anything? Never, right?" asked Simon. "All I want you to do is keep this centaur for me. And if you get caught, just say I made you do it, okay?" Simon patted her on the back.  
  
"Fine," agreed Cecilia. "But you owe me a favor."  
  
"Okay." Simon rubbed his hands together. "So, how do you reckon we should get the centaur into the castle?" 


	6. Incest and Seduction

(Authors' Note: Yes, we are reposting this chapter.we forgot to do the double spacing thing.so.yeah. Incest.and stuff..My mother is a giant potato.)  
  
Simon dashed into Cecilia's dressing room where the centaur was hiding. "CENTAUR! Ho!" he whispered smirking in the dim lighting of the wee hours of the morning. He had waited patiently out the two days and he was ready to give Ella her surprise.  
  
Cecilia marched over to him wearing her white dressing gown. She had dreamed about this encounter many times, but there were no live animals involved, usually. It depended on what kind of a mood she was in while dreaming. "Char?" she asked in a seductive tone. "Why are you in my dressing room in the wee hours of the morning?"  
  
"Getting my goat- thing," said Simon gruffly, pushing past his cousin, "Where did you put him?"  
  
"In my closet," purred Cecilia, "Right behind my panties.." "Thanks," said Simon flinging open the door to the closet. A foul order caught his nose, "Lord Cecilia," he murmured, "Your panties smell like crap!"  
  
"It's your centaur you idiot! It's been crapping all evening." said Cecilia, her saucy purr gone, replace by genuine anger. "I mean," she said, finding her seductive voice again. "Your centaur has been difficult and..." She licked her lips and lowered her voice. "Naughty." She looked Simon in the eye. "Char, I'm afraid he's quite ruined my.. unmentionables."  
  
"What the hell are you talking about, woman," scoffed Simon with a look of disgust, "I just want to get my centaur and get out of your crap smelling closet!" Cecilia pouting and felt the tears coming.  
  
"B-b-but," she began to sob, " IT'S THE WOOD NYMPH ISNT IT? YOUR HAVING EXTRAMARITAL AFFAIRS WITH HER!" she paused and then hissed, "You love me, I know it!"  
  
"Cecilia," said Char taking the centaur by the leash, "You are in need of great therapy. I'm your bloody cous-brother," he said storming out of the closet.  
  
"That only makes it more fun," moaned Cecilia leaning over to Simon, giving him a view of her cleavage, "And very naughty!"  
  
"Cecilia!" screamed Simon in pure outrage, "You have serious mental problems! It's so wrong!"  
  
"So what if we have the same mother?" asked Cecilia straddling her cousin- thought- brother's waist, "Tonight I want to-"  
  
"CECILIA!" cried Simon pushing her onto the floor and grabbing the centaur,  
  
"I'm leaving, now!" And with that he stormed out of her bedchambers. Cecilia just sighed and went to her bedside table where she pulled out his shirt. She inhaled deeply and leaned back into bed.  
  
Simon groaned and led the centaur stealthily down the hall. He decided not to think about Cecilia and her..ew! "I will not consider or think about!" he said firmly to himself, "She's my cousin for Gog's sake!"  
  
"But do you know what even more disgusting," he said to himself. "What?" "That she thinks that you're her brother and she is still willing to- ,"  
  
"STOP!" he screamed to himself, "And add a major ick! Right," he told himself, "Concentrate on Ella. You have to lie on the seduction thick. This little project is too time consuming,' "Don't we both know it," Simon agreed with himself leading the centaur down path, the early morning light creeping over the horizon.  
  
"It's a perfect plan," Simon told himself as he saw Ella's manor looming in the distance, "All romance with the rising sun and the rising music and rising..um.," "Music?"  
  
"I'll hum. Hum? Romantically!" Simon approached the front door of the manor and knocked sharply. A moment later a grumpy looking maid answered the door.  
  
"Donnie, you are late this morning," she was saying and then she saw who was at the door,  
  
"Oh!" she dropped to her knees, "Your highness," "Yes," said Simon touching her shoulder for her to rise, "Is Lady Ella here?"  
  
"Ella? Why no, sir," said the maid, "She's-"  
  
From somewhere deep within the house a full voice called out, "Who is it, Bertha? Did Donnie bring the milk yet?" from out of the shadows a lady emerged. She was tall and. mature. Yet still in her age she had childish freckles and a sweet double chin. The woman saw Simon and dropped to her knees,  
  
"Your highness," she murmured, her fizzy gray hair falling in her face, "What do we owe this great honor,"  
  
"Please rise," Simon commanded, his throat getting dry while his blood pumped hard, "I'm a-looking for. Ella," he said, "But first," he said with a touch of suave, "Who are you, madam?" She gave him a sexiness half smile and replied, "Mandy, Prince Charmonte, I'm the cook." She bat an eye on Bertha,  
  
"You may leave now Bertha."  
  
"Yes Mandy," said Bertha with a sigh and she scampered off to the shadows of the manor.  
  
"Now, Mandy," said Simon advancing to the aging cook, "I'm looking for a girl."  
  
"Who my lord?" said the cook biting down on her lower lip to suppress a smile. "A Lady Ella of Frell," said Char, "I seemed to have promised her a centaur and I would like to give him to her."  
  
"It's a lovely gift," said Mandy petting the centaur's chestnut back, "Does it have a name?"  
  
"Yeah," Simon thought fast, "Apple.. Is Ella here?"  
  
"No, she's not Highness," said Mandy, she seemed upset about that.  
  
"Well where is she?" demanded Simon. Mandy quivered, she liked a man who could give orders. "Her father. Sir Peter, he sent to finishing school," she said.  
  
Simon froze. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" he screamed silently, "Curses, curses, curses!"  
  
"When did she leave?" asked the imposer prince weakly.  
  
"This morning sir," said Mandy. Simon could feel his temper at breaking point Just count to ten, Simon he told himself. Mama says count to ten. "Why?" he asked slowly.  
  
"Well-," Mandy started by Simon did not let her finish. He closed his mouth over hers, the frustration and rage building. He needed to get control again, "Oh Mindy," purred Simon, "Why are we still talking about Ella?"  
  
"It's Mandy," Mandy giggled, "But lets go someplace. nicer. " That evening the prince left with his centaur and left Mandy rather sore. The next morning she sat in the kitchen, in the very chair that she had made love to the boy several decades younger then her, penning a letter to the girl who also loved him "Yesterday you had a grander visitor, and received a bigger gift than a bird. The prince himself came see you, leading a centaur colt." Mandy paused she was having difficultly finding the words, cursing Ella for her beauty, she continued writing. "When I told him you were away from home he wanted to know here you'd gone and when you'd be back. When he heard you were at finishing school he was indignant. He demanded to know why you needed to be finished since there was nothing wrong with you to start with. I couldn't answer him because-," Mandy started giggling, she couldn't answer that he was making wild, passionate animal love to her. Instead she wrote, " I'd like to ask that father of yours the same question." That's clean, Mandy decided, and kept writing, "I did tell him we had nowhere to keep a growing centaur. He's a little beauty, but what can I do with him? Your prince-," Even writing the words, your prince, caused Mandy's heart to contract with pain. Char would never be Mandy's prince, they had their moment in the kitchen, that was all, " said he'd raise him for you. He asked me to tell you the colt's name, Apple. That made remember my manners and I gave him name to eat-," Oh yes, Mandy had given Apple and Char their share to off right off her naked body, she shivered at the memory, she couldn't keep writing about Char, "before he left with the prince." She sighed heavily and shook her head, maybe Char would.. Stop by soon. She tried to continue her letter but images of her handsome prince danced through her head, making her dizzy with need and she had to stop.  
  
Simon had to stop on his way back from Ella's manor to wash himself  
and scream. "It's alright," said Simon calming himself down, "Just  
kill something," 


End file.
